


told me i was holy

by cosmicwritings



Series: tumblr prompts [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, not Actually tom but his mention is pretty important tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 06:20:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9165787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicwritings/pseuds/cosmicwritings
Summary: i love you + "as we huddle together, as the storm rages on outside."





	

**Author's Note:**

> @anneboelyns requested: i love you "as we huddle together, as the storm rages on outside" + hinny, and bc i'm Extra i took it figuratively rather than literally??? i mean there's a mention of a Storm but sfkjhfdjg I'm Sorry if it's weird. anyways i posted this originally on my tumblr @hannahabbott where i'm still taking requests so hmu!!! title's from hold me down by halsey :-)

Her hands are shaking badly. There’s a war drum thudding beat in her heart, and her muscles are clenched.

She’s been off all day. She knows it. There was something heavy in her bones the moment she woke up this morning, could feel the old feeling of black hidden in the shadows. As she opened her eyes, she didn’t think she could make herself get out of bed.

Of course, Ginny Weasley is used to Tom Riddle’s voice in her head. She’s gotten very good at ignoring the darker thoughts, the uglier thoughts. Some days, she can get through and not think about it once. Other days, she is not so lucky. 

Today is an ‘other day’. 

She thinks, not for the first time, that she is slightly glad that she and Harry did not move in with each other right away. It is not that she doesn’t believe he wouldn’t understand; there’s a calming feeling when he matches her ghosts to hers. But there are times like these that she needs to battle these demons alone. She doesn’t know how to fight off Riddle’s imprint with other people. No one helped her in first year when he forced his grip on her; it does not feel as though people should help her now. 

From her bed this morning, it took her almost an hour to summon the effort to Accio a piece of parchment and quill. In shaky handwriting, she had written that she was not up for practice that day, as she felt ill. Barely a full year out of Hogwarts, the Holyhead Harpies had snatched her up as a reserve chaser, which she honestly still isn’t fucking over. She’d been training hard with them, determined to be ready if the time ever came to play in actual matches. The moment her owl had left, she had curled into herself, feeling the creaky ache of her bones.

Finally, she had managed to pull herself out of bed, blinking once, twice, at how successful she was. But ever since her first year, she’s been powering through the hard moments. She’s got this.

The mug she’s reaching for falls through her trembling fingers, and there’s a loud shatter as it hits the floor.

Ginny rarely allows herself to cry. After Riddle’s hold on her, she won’t let salt water taint her cheeks. It’s not a weakness, she knows, but it feels like it. She powers through. This is what she does.

Staring at broken shards on the floor of a three-room flat that she owns, completely her own, she breaks down.

This is how Harry finds her, almost an hour later: a crumpled ball, red hair fanned around her like rivers of blood. He’s tumbling through the Floo, and he does not hesitate a single second when he moves to lift her off the floor of her conjoined kitchen and sitting room, to her bed.

When he curls his body around her, gentle and firm, Ginny whimpers. He winces.

“Why’re you wet?” His robe is sticking to her pajamas. Her voice is thick and hoarse. 

He seems to expect this. But you focus on the smaller things, instead of the problem. That’s how a generation of kids who got fucked up by war functions. “Auror training today. Came straight for the Ministry, but the weather’s absolutely shit — been pouring all day.” He pauses. “I wanted to see you.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles, breathing slowly. “You too.” 

There’s a silence, but there’s something comforting about it.

“Bad day?” 

And Ginny releases something that resembles a laugh. She can feel his mouth curve into a small grin into the back of her head. “Yeah. Something like that.”

Another short pause.

“Are you staying tonight?” It comes out small, guarded. She thought that this was a day she needed to be alone, battle her demons herself, but Harry’s here and he brings a familiar presence with him.

He huffs a laugh, his breath moving the top of her hair. “Or brave through the Floo network during tonight’s storm? Your mum will have my head.” 

Ginny’s head turns, her neck craning so she is able to see him from this angle. It startles her sometimes, the resemblance Harry and Tom hold to each other. The dark hair, the strong jaw. She can feel the dried tears on her cheeks and, for once, does not make a move to wipe them. Instead, she pushes off the bed slightly to press a kiss on the spot next to his ear. 

“Have you eaten?” he says, bringing up a hand to twist a strand of her hair around his finger. 

She shrugs. “A little bit. Not up for it, honestly.”

“Fair enough.” He kisses her then, long and hard and comforting. “I love you.”

She can still feel the dark thoughts in her mind prodding her relentlessly. She’s not as naïve as she was at eleven to think this will go away because a beautiful boy she loves is pressing his lips to hers. Tom’s voice is still a whisper in her mind.

But she looks at Harry, at the green in his eyes behind his glasses. Reminds herself Tom is a part of who she is, but it is not all she is. “I love you too.” And the words taste like defiance and home.


End file.
